Laws of Attraction

by RC Boldt

  It was Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds”.

  As Lawson and Miller started out singing the song’s lyrics, soon after, they’d all joined in—even Foster, who was normally never caught dead singing. And, as they serenaded Raine, the woman’s entire demeanor brightened, a smile—a real one, not forced—forming on her face.

  Don’t worry ‘bout a thing,

  ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright.

  And she recognized, as they sang—some in tune, some not—that this was what family was about. This ‘family’—their own makeshift family—was made up of those who weren’t related by blood but whose bonds were stronger, built on a solid foundation of togetherness, trust, mutual respect, and love. Those who held your hand, supported you, stood by you—without a second thought—when you needed it most. Those who accepted you for who you were. Those who did whatever it took to make you smile again. Those who wanted to be involved in your life and, in turn, wanted you involved in their own.

  Those who loved each other—unconditionally.

  Darting a glance around the living room as everyone sang to Raine, who had since joined in, she reflected that what began as a morose, downcast kind of day had certainly turned around. Simply by these people rallying around their friend, showing her that they cared, that they were going to be there for her, and she could lean on them.

  And she couldn’t help but almost feel like The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, as she sat there in that home, feeling encompassed by love, friendship, and support.

  Because she swore it felt as though her heart must have grown three sizes larger that day.

  C

  HAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Ginsberg’s restatement of the third law of thermodynamics: You can’t quit.

  Lawson’s take: Even when the odds seem stacked against you, you can’t quit. Where’s the fun in that, anyway? Life is full of challenges. Some more than others.

  ~

  “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” Lawson said in a booming voice, impersonating the character, Gandalf, in the Lord of the Rings movie before saying in a normal voice, “Until you give me a token of affection, of course.”

  Lee shot him a look, standing in the foyer of Momma K.’s home.

  He’d been waiting patiently—kind of—for her to arrive for their designated dinner night at Foster and Laney’s mother’s house. And he couldn’t resist harassing her when she finally arrived. Because, well, that was pretty much his ‘thing’. He excelled at harassment.

  Zach slid up next to him, making his voice creepy to sound like Gollum. “But the fat Hobbit knows! He’s always watching!”

  “And by ‘fat Hobbit’, you mean who exactly?” Lee fixed her eyes on Zach, tone full of dry amusement.

  He and Zach looked at one another, grinning mischievously, instantly on the same page. “Foster,” they announced in unison.

  They loved harassing Foster who was decidedly anything but fat. Hell, he swore that Laney’s brother almost looked as if he were in better shape than when he’d been with his SEAL team.

  “I heard that,” Foster called out from the living room where he was likely seated with Mac and the other guys. “Remember, I know where you live, Mayson.”

  Zach’s lips curved into a smug grin before he yelled back, “You mean, the place where I live with your sister? The woman who, every single night, I—”

  “Don’t.” Foster’s tone was one of both warning and command. It was a tone the former SEAL had likely utilized much during his years in the Navy. His tone screamed, “Don’t fuck with me.”

  Which meant, he and Zach had to. Just had to. It was pretty much one of their favorite things to do.

  Zach turned, beginning to walk toward living room, approaching Foster, and called out, “I was only going to say how, every night we snuggle …”

  Lawson’s eyes met Lee’s, both of them grinning as they listened. And waited for what was sure to come.

  “Snuggle. That’s fine. Let’s leave it at how you snuggle—” Foster was interrupted by his brother-in-law as Zach piped up with something he just knew was coming.

  Zach was his best friend, after all. It wasn’t like he had gone all this time without having some idea what would come out of the guy’s mouth.

  And he had a pretty good idea what it was going to be.

  “Naked. We snuggle naked.” He could practically hear his friend’s shit-eating grin in his tone alone.

  Snickering, he and Lee turned to enter the other room, intent on watching the showdown which was sure not to disappoint. Just as they stood in the opening to the living room, they saw Mac and Miller both failing at restraining their grins. Kane, of course, didn’t bother to conceal his.

  He knew there was a reason he liked the Texan. Kane was his kind of people, that’s for sure.

  “Zachariah.” Momma K.’s voice trailed after them from where she was working in the kitchen to prepare dinner. “Can you help me with the prosciutto, please?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Zach called out. Giving Foster a sly look, he spoke in a lowered voice. “Gotta go, Fos. Your mom wants me to help her with her meat.”

  Foster flipped him the bird.

  Zach, nonplussed, turned with a smirk still firmly in place, and headed to help Momma K. in the kitchen.

  Turning to face Lee, he whispered, “What do you say we go and see if we can snag some of Momma K.’s prosciutto?”

  “Uh …” She seemed unsure.

  Head tipped to the side, he stared at her. “You’ve never had prosciutto?” When she still didn’t respond, he grasped her wrist, tugging her in the direction of the kitchen. “We must remedy this.”

  As he led her past the dining room where the other women were setting the table, he drew her closer to the doorway of the kitchen. Suddenly, she tugged on his grip. “Wait.”

  Stopping, he turned to face her, feeling her pulse beating rapidly as he traced his thumb over it. “What’s wrong?”

  “She only asked for Zach to help her and … I just …” She trailed off and waved a hand as if to gesture. “I don’t know anything about prosciutto. Like, at all. I don’t want to go in there and look like an idiot.”

  He waited a beat before responding, stepping closer to her. Reaching up to slide back a few stray strands of hair, tucking them behind her ear, he leaned forward to press a whisper soft kiss to her forehead. “Yoda once said that fear is the path to the Dark Side.” Leaning away to look into her eyes. “Fear not, you shall.”

  She held his gaze for a moment before slowly nodding, corners of her lips tipping upward. “Fear not, I shall.”

  And, with those wise words, he led her into Momma K.’s kitchen. Not only because he knew deep down that Momma K. was one of those women who took everyone under her ‘wing’ and into her heart but because he wanted—needed—Lee to see that for herself.

  Okay, and because he wanted to nab some prosciutto. Because, really, how could anyone blame him for that?

  The answer to that was simple.

  They couldn’t.

  * * *

  It seemed like only five minutes had passed before Momma K. abruptly declared that Zach and Lawson were eating too much of her prosciutto wrapped mozzarella and were forced to leave the kitchen, leaving only her and Momma K.

  Aaaaaaaand awkward silence. Thick, cloying layers of it. Which sent her ‘fight or flight’ into high ‘flight’ mode.

  And takeoff was about to happen.

  “Uh, I should probably—”

  “Stay.” Momma K.’s firm tone was in contrast to her deep brown eyes which were twinkling. “You realize that I raised both Laney and Foster, right? I’ve gotten to know dodging techniques like no other, Lee. Amongst many others.” Her head tipped to the side. “You don’t mind if I call you Lee, do you?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Nodding, the older woman’s lips curved into a knowing smile before she turned to get something from the refrigerator. Turning back to place a container upon the counter between them,
she popped off the lid and produced what looked to be …

  “They think I don’t have their number when it comes to these things.” Momma K. gestured to the container filled with countless more prosciutto wrapped mozzarella. “But I do. That’s why I always stow away extra.”

  Brows furrowing in confusion, she asked, “But, you just …”

  “Told them to leave? Of course,” Momma K. scoffed. “How else would I get you to myself for a bit?” She turned back to check on the food in the oven, opening the oven door to peek inside briefly before closing it. Facing her again, the older woman leaned one hip against the counter and peered at her.

  “Lawson is a good boy. You do realize this?” The older woman’s eyes were more serious, more intense as she held her gaze.

  Nodding, she replied carefully, “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  Head cocked to the side, Momma K.’s lips rolled inward as if she were carefully choosing her next words. Glancing toward the doorway, as though ensuring no one was there, she went on, “He’s helped everyone in some way, you know.”

  Huh. That’s interesting. “How so?”

  “Well,” the older woman crossed her arms, continuing to lean against the counter, “he helped Mac and Raine get back on track, then Zach and Laney. And, from what I hear,” she chuckled softly, “he went above and beyond to help Miller win back Tate.”

  She stayed silent, unsure of where the woman was leading the conversation.

  “But it isn’t just that, my dear.” Momma K.’s smile was one tinged slightly with sadness. “He helps my Foster, too. He and Zach, both. Now, I know what you’re thinking,” she broke off to shake her head with a grin, “that what they dish out to my son can’t possibly be helping. But it is.”

  The woman glanced over to the empty doorway, as if lost in thought. “He needs that because I know it’s part of what he misses from when he served. The harassment that goes along with having people in your life who know you inside and out.” She sighed before turning her gaze back to Lee. “That’s the thing about Lawson. He doesn’t harass anyone he doesn’t care about. And, I suspect,” she gave her a knowing smile, “that he cares very deeply for you.”

  Her lips parted to respond just as the oven timer began to ring.

  Talk about being saved by the bell, she thought to herself.

  Turning off the timer before using hot pads to remove the large dish from the oven, Momma K. continued. “I know that you feel something for him, too. And that it scares you. But,” she carefully placed the dish onto the top of the stove, “you can’t let fear lead the way.”

  “Fear not, I shall.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized it, internally cringing as soon as she spoke.

  Momma K.’s entire face lit up. “Oh, Lee.” She reached over to pat her on the arm. “See? You’re already on board with Lawson. God knows that boy has always loved quoting Yoda.” Smiling up at her sweetly, she added, “You just have to get past your fears. Let your heart lead the way, dear. Let your heart lead the way.”

  That was easier said than done. Look where it had led her in the past. It had taken her straight down to Suckville.

  “He’s worth it.” Momma K.’s voice drew her from her thoughts, eyes darting to meet the woman’s serious gaze. “Now, have a prosciutto and tell me all about,” the older woman darted a glance at the doorway before lowering her voice, “my son and Noelle.”

  Taking the prosciutto wrapped mozzarella offering, she took a bite, chewing the delicious mix of salty meat with the creamy mozzarella, swallowing before she grinned.

  “Well, he admitted that he was interested in her,” she spoke in hushed tone, grinning smugly.

  “I knew it!” Momma K. boasted in a whisper, grinning from ear to ear.

  And that was how she ended up gossiping with Momma K. about Foster and Noelle and eating the extra prosciutto the older woman had saved from being devoured by Zach and Lawson.

  And, for the first time in far too long, she felt as if she were … home.

  C

  HAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Langley

  Final Deployment

  Kandahar, Afghanistan

  “Why is everyone acting so belligerent around me?” I asked Brent.

  It hurt that these men, my teammates, had turned on me for some reason. Sure, there had been some who seemed like they would likely never accept me as one of them, but others had begrudgingly accepted me.

  Now, though, things had made a complete one-eighty. For the worse. They were uncompliant and it had become a tense environment. Not a good working environment, to say the least. I had finally recuperated from my injury and had passed my physical to be released back to work.

  Was it because of that damn Air Force Cross award? I wondered. Because I didn’t care about that shit. I just wanted to do my damn job. I didn’t want any awards for making a choice that anyone would’ve made for their best friend. Lucas would’ve done the same for me and not expected a fucking award for it. And I knew that while Lucas may have been awarded a Cross for doing the same, it sure as hell wouldn’t have be put on the fast-track, straight to their Commander-In-Chief’s office, for him to sign off on it.

  I knew—like everyone else—that it had been fast-tracked because of me. Because I was the first female amongst them. And, while it didn’t seem to matter or make much of a difference that I didn’t like that shit, it mattered to the rest of the guys.

  A lot.

  “Don’t they know I don’t want the fucking award?” I’d cried out to Brent, expecting him to enfold me in his arms, to comfort me. Instead, I got something far different.

  He crossed his thick, muscled arms—which seemed far too large for his form—and stared at me. I’d often wondered if some of his supplements weren’t exactly on the up and up but figured with the random drug testing, he’d have been found out if that were the case.

  “Langley Ford,” he shook his head at me, with a smirk that instantly sent an uneasiness running through me, “don’t you fucking get it?”

  I eyed him warily. “Get what?”

  His laugh was full of cockiness. “Get that you were never supposed to be here. And, finally, I’ve made it so that you’ll soon be good as gone.”

  “What have you done?” The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach got even worse.

  That sickening smile. God. How was it that this was the same man who’d told me he’d loved me?

  “I had a talk with Sam. About how you put the entire team at risk that day you,” his tone changed, full of sarcasm, “so heroically took a bullet for your teammate.” He made a face, before adding with a pleased expression, “Decided at the last minute that you’d get yourself a commendation for getting shot.”

  Incredulous, I yelled, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right now! Like I enjoyed getting shot? Like I enjoyed having to sit around and recuperate instead of doing what I love? You’re a fucking liar!”

  “Well, this,” he used air quotes, “‘liar’ is smart and you’re now on everyone’s shit list, Ford. Because a little birdie’s been telling people that you’ve been sleeping with some influential players here.” He sneered. “The only reason I fucked you was to find a way to get to you.” Getting in my face, he pointed his finger at me. “Get wise and get your ass out of here while you can. Because, you never know, Ford,” he sang the words, a dark grin forming on his face, “you might get shot again … except this time, you’ll be the person being shoved into the line of fire.”

  The threat, the audacity of Brent to voice it to me … it felt like someone had just stabbed me in the heart. Internally, I scoffed at myself. Really, Langley? Really? You thought that he would be any different from the rest? That he would actually care for you?

  The only people who had cared for me had been the Brooks’ family and they were long gone, having passed away far too early due to a carbon monoxide leak in their home a few years prior. Mr. Joe had recently had a stroke and was in rehabilitation so I certainly did
n’t want to bother him with this nonsense. God knows that man had gone above and beyond to help me when I needed it the most.

  I still should have known better. I fucking should’ve known better.

  It wasn’t long before I managed to reach my fifteen-year mark with the Air Force, submitting my separation papers. To do what I never, in a million years, thought I would actually choose to do.

  Leave the job I had done everything in my power to achieve. Leave the job I had loved with every part of me. Leave the job where I’d felt worthy, felt like I was doing something to help others.

  “Langley, you don’t need to do this,” Lucas pleaded with me quietly as we sat outside one night.

  Giving a brief nod, I told him, “But I do. It’s not safe for me, Lucas. Not anymore.”

  His expression turned dark, dangerous. “What do you mean it’s not safe for you?”

  Rolling my lips inward, I cussed myself for the slipup. Knowing he’d badger me until I divulged the truth, I let out a sigh. “My gear has been tampered with every single time until I started sleeping with it beside me.”

  I didn’t turn to see Lucas’ expression; didn’t have to. His extensive string of cuss words said it all.

  “They, uh, also decided dismantle my laptop somehow.” And by dismantle, I meant someone had taken what looked like a sledgehammer to it, leaving all the bits and pieces on the small desk in my room.

  Giving a humorless laugh, I added, “So that means you’ll have to wait a bit longer before I get to email you. Once I get stateside, I’ll buy a new one.”

  “Langley …” I turned to see Lucas running his hand through his hair in obvious frustration and anger at my situation. “I’m going to try and fix this. Maybe I can get a hold of Brooks for you—”

  “No!” My response was firm. “No, Lucas. You are not going to risk your career, your family’s well-being, for me. No.” I held his gaze before softening my tone. “Lane needs you, Mel needs you. And Joe Brooks is still recuperating from that stroke. I’ll be fine.” Sighing, I internally added, I hope. “Don’t do anything to jeopardize that for Mel and Lane.” I paused. “Please.”